


Steamed Hams but it's Armsmaster and Director Piggot

by EtchJetty



Series: Etch's Sketches - A One-Shot Collection [3]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, The Simpsons
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtchJetty/pseuds/EtchJetty





	Steamed Hams but it's Armsmaster and Director Piggot

“Hello?”  
  
“Director. I have a request of you.”  
  
Slowly opening her eyes, Emily Piggot rolled over in her bed. She groggily checked the clock. _2:37 AM. Damnit Colin, can’t I get some sleep?_  
  
“What is it, Armsmaster? This had better be important.”  
  
“You are no doubt aware of the... reports of my somewhat abrasive behavior towards my coworkers, yes?”  
  
Oh _god_. What the hell did he do this time?  
  
“Unfortunately, yes. Why?”  
  
She could hear some awkward shuffling over the line. “Well, Director, I think I’ve successfully built some socialization protocols into my HUD. Effectively modeled after the most sociable capes I know, Dragon, Glory Girl, Clockblocker-” _Clockblocker?_ “-and various normal examples from television and the film industry, I may have created a tinkertech solution to my social problems.”  
  
He paused, waiting for her to respond. Was he using these... protocols... already?  
  
“I see,” she finally responded.  
  
Even through her half-asleep haze, she could detect satisfaction in his voice with his next request. “So, Director. I need to test these protocols in a controlled environment. Thus, I would like to invite you to lunch at my house tomorrow at noon.”  
  
“Yes, that should be goo-aaaahhhd,” she yawned. “Colin, can you call me back when I’m not asleep? Then we can see about this lunch date test thing.”  
  
“Of course, Director. Armsmaster out.”  
  
The call thus ended, Director Emily Piggot of the Parahuman Response Teams, division East-North-East, went back to bed and completely forgot about it the whole ordeal. That is, until the next day, when she noted her lunch break was scheduled for a location outside of the PRT HQ or the Rig.  
  
A home address? But who would - _Armsmaster_.  
  
Shit.  
  
\------------------------------------------------  
  
Director Piggot stood shivering outside of the home of one Colin Wallis, known to much of the public as the hero Armsmaster. There was no possible way this could go right. _Well, what the hell. Might as well get on with this shitshow._ She double checked her pantsuit, made sure her blonde bob was stiffly in place, made certain the red bow holding around the bottle of champagne she brought was secured, and rang the doorbell. She was greeted by the sight of Colin smiling at her, wearing a fancy blue suit, Tinkertech glasses, and a... lacy apron? _Dear lord, this man is the head of the Protectorate ENE?_  
  
For whatever reason, Colin had tried to force her to follow his newly-programmed mapping application to his house. In the interest of efficiency, it had said, go in a straight line from the PHQ to Colin's house.  
  
She had wasted around twenty minutes trying to use the app to book an emergency helicopter flight before giving up and hailing a cab.  
  
“Well, Colin, I made it, despite your directions,” she snarked.  
  
He smiled brightly at her. “Ah, Director Piggot, welcome! I hope you’re prepared for an unforgettable luncheon!” Piggot grunted in acknowledgement as she stepped in. Colin headed back towards the kitchen, so she dropped the bottle of champagne she had brought in the ice bucket and waited for him to bring out the food.  
  
\------------------------------------------------  
  
This was going wonderfully so far, hummed Colin. None of the Director’s reactions were being flagged as negative according to his software. He seemed to be doing just fine following the protocols as given by the glasses, although the GUI was sort of inefficient. He initially designed it for his helmet and the scaled-down version looks slightly odd, especially on a non-curved _do I smell smoke?_  
  
Colin forcefully turned his attention away from his masterpiece and tried to locate the source of the smoke, scanning the room visually until -  
  
_Oh ye gods._  
  
Colin rushed to his oven, knelt down, and checked inside - yep. His roast was ruined, the edges of the pan completely in flames. He needed a solution and he needed it fast.  
  
What if...  


_run problemsolver.exe  
problem defined {target:”roast”=state:”ruined”}_

_solution defined {target:”luncheon”=state:”unforgettable”}_  
scan location... (2/100)

_alt.food.solutions in location {“Colin’s House”} not found_  
scan location... (34/100)  
alt.food.solutions found in nearby location {“Fugly Bob’s”}  
scan complete.

_Recommended solution: Purchase fast food and disguise as [USER]’s own cooking._  
Simulated user response:

_playback: {colin_wallis_example_laughter23.mp3}_

_“Hoh hoh hoh! Delightfully devilish, Colin!”_  
  
...he were to purchase fast food and disguise it as his own cooking? Colin chuckled under his breath. A delightfully devilish solution indeed. Colin made to open the window when the door to the kitchen opened, revealing a startled Director Piggot.  
  
“Director! I was just- uh, running diagnostic tests on the tensile strength of my windowsill! Care to join me?” To prove his point he had taken out his omnitool and began poking the window with it.  
  
“Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Colin?”  
  
Colin hazarded a glance to the oven. Then a quick peek at the social protocols. All signs pointed towards deflection and deception away from the potential fire hazard.  
  
Easy enough. Colin had spent years around Assault. Long ago he had learned that the simplest way of getting someone to leave a room is to start talking Tinkertech.  
  
“Oh, that isn't smoke! It's steam! Steam from the tinker-made clams we're having! You see, when I purchased these from a rogue tinker in Serbia, he had notified me that the packaging was made of a micro-nano-picofiber material, making it ultra-resistant to-” but Director Piggot had left as soon as she heard the word “clams”.  
  
Colin breathed an audible sigh of relief and began to make his way out of the room through the window.  
  
Time to make a very _heroic_ visit to Fugly Bob’s.


End file.
